It Must Be the Donuts
by For Your Lungs Only
Summary: When Munch eats something, shall we say, special at Dunkin' Donuts, he starts acting really weird. Can SVU find out what's wrong with him before he hits on every girl in sight?
1. Chapter 1

**SL:I just came up with this idea yesterday. I like writing funny stories, but I can write serious stuff too. Check my profile for upcoming stories and stories I'm working on.**

**It Must Be the Donuts**

**Prologue**

It was about 10:30 when John Munch walked into the little Dunkin' Donuts a few blocks away from the station. The detectives had this deal going, where every week it was someone's job to buy donuts and coffee for all four of them. Munch wondered idly why it was always his turn the farthest week away from payday. John headed up to the counter, armed with a twenty dollar bill and morning crankiness. A little buzzing voice in his head said, 'Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.' He got angry when he didn't get his coffee.

Munch eyed the teenage boy working at the desk. He was greasy haired and had a bad acne problem. "Four medium coffees and two dozen glazed donuts," he said to the boy. "That'll be fifteen dollars and eighty-seven cents," the boy said monotonously, punching some buttons into the register. He took the twenty dollars, gave John change, and disappeared behind the counter.

The Night Before

11:32 p.m

"C'mon, hurry up!" Two young looking men had carefully broken into Dunkin' Donuts, and they had burglarized a drug store before that, taking several prescriptions with the intent to sell them on the street.

They smashed the register open and stole the money. But on the way out, one of them dropped a bottle of pills, stepped on it and crushed it. "Crap!" he yelled, scrambling to pick up the pills, salvaging the few that weren't stepped on. "Let's get out of here," the other one said. And they escaped into the night making off with a couple hundred dollars.

Present

10:37 a.m.

The boy behind the counter lazily made the donuts and coffee. He accidentally dropped a donut on the floor and the crushed pills lightly dusted the donut. He didn't notice, and he picked the donut up and put it back in the box. The boy walked back to the counter, gave the food to Munch, and told him to have a nice day. Which he rally didn't mean at all, but he had to say it anyway.

Munch walked back out to his car and got in, carefully setting the coffee in cup holders and putting the box of donuts in the passenger seat. He turned the key in the ignition and drove back to the station. Munch turned on the radio, turning the dial to 94.9.

"Alright, I've got a call coming in… Hey, you're on 94.9, The Flame. What's your name?"

"Brittany."

"Ok, do you want to request a song?"

"Yeah. Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day." "Alright! Remember, this is 94.9 The Flame, bringing you the hottest music in New York…" In a few seconds, the chord of a guitar rang out and the song began.

_I walk this empty street_

_On the boulevard of broken dreams_

_Where the city-_

Munch turned off the radio and rode in silence the rest of the drive. He didn't care much for rock music. He entered the precinct, the coffee and donuts in hand. "Here you go, everybody," he said, setting the items on a desk.

"Oh you didn't hear?" Olivia said. "We all went out for breakfast at about 10:30."

John's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "I'm glad everyone invited me," he said, sitting down at his desk. He really needed some coffee.

Munch grabbed a donut and thought to himself as he took a bite out of it: 'Powdered? I told the kid glazed… Oh well.' He ate the donut, took a sip of coffee, and slowly, a strange sensation began to creep over him.

He was the Munchster. Mission: Seek and Seduce.

**SL: So tell me… Love it? Hate it? I should have the next chapter up by next week. Til then, drop me a review, why dontcha? Flames, praise, all the same to me. I just like feedback. The prologue isn't that funny, but wait until later chapters. That's when the humor kicks in. And also, about Munch's lack of words: Well, I mean, there's not that much for him to say… I mean, what's he going to do? Hold a full fledged convo with the Dunkin' Donuts boy? Hahaha… Anyway, keep an eye out for chapter 2- Target #1: Olivia Benson!**

**Don't worry, this won't be an OJ fic. Or OE, for that matter. Just Munch acting crazy toward all the girls. **


	2. Target 1: Olivia Benson!

**SL: Okay, I finally got this chapter up! It took a long time because my teachers like to give me stacks of homework. I'm working on the next chapter already. No promises this time…**

**To everyone who reviewed, thanks. **

**It Must Be the Donuts**

**Chapter 1- Target #1: Olivia Benson!**

SVU Squadroom

12:17 p.m.

John discreetly hid himself next to the lockers, dressed in black leather. He spoke into the two-way radio he held in his hand. "Munch to Munch, do you read me?" He took out the other two-way he had in his pocket. "Yep, loud and clear," he replied back to himself. He had a plan. Sort of. Ok, he'd have to think that through again.

Unexpectedly, Fin's voice rang out. "Hey, John, there you are. Where the hell have you been? Cragen's on my ass, and he's gonna be on yours as soon as I drag you back to him," he told John.

At the sound of Fin's voice, John almost jumped a whole mile and posed himself in a karate position. Fin gave him a puzzled look and said, "Yeah man, whatever, I always knew you had problems. You didn't have to remind me,"

"I can't do whatever Cragen wants me to do," John said, relaxing back into a normal stance.

"And why not?"

"'Cause."

"'Cause what?"

"…Shut up."

"Look, we've got a job to do, so whatever happened to your head you better screw it on back straight," Fin said. "And what are you wearing?"

"Oh, you like?" John said, curtsying. Fin rolled his eyes and walked off, giving up on trying to talk to him.

Now, John needed to get back to the task at hand. He pulled out a pair of binoculars and peered at a familiar woman seated at her desk.

Olivia Benson was going over a hard case, trying to pick up on anything she missed, when she felt eyes watching her. She whipped around to see no other than John looking not just at her, but at everything that moved in the office.

"John, what the hell are you doing?" she asked, walking towards him. "I hope this isn't anything about the government," she said. The precinct was well fed up that week from hearing Munch drone on about how the government is now cooking up a plan to drop people who know "the truth" off on a deserted island.

He let the binoculars hang loose around his neck. Facing Olivia, he said, "Olivia, go sit down."

"What? No," she said stubbornly. She wasn't about to let anyone tell her what do to. Okay, maybe sometimes. But not today. Today, she had PMS.

"I see I'm going to have to do this the hard way," John said, in a mysterious voice unlike his usual. He produced a donut from the box he had bought earlier, which for some reason he had toted around with him. He tossed the donut towards her desk.

"Ooooh!" she clapped her hands happily and ran towards the donut. Forget she was watching her weight. She needed something sweet to eat, like, quick.

She sat down and ferociously ate the donut. It was every cop's dream. Well, at least hers, anyway.

It was time for John to make his next move. He took out a giant boom box and set it on her desk. Pressing play, he waited until the music began.

He began to dance to the music. John jumped on top of her desk, did a little shake, and then turned around and popped his butt right in her face.

At the same moment, Fin and Elliot walked in, animatedly chatting, but stopped dead when they say Munch dancing. At first, they stood there with their mouths wide open for several seconds. Then, in unison, they exploded in laughter, clutching their sides and falling to the floor.

Olivia was stunned. She sent a pleading "help me" look to Elliot, but he was too busy dying from laughter.

About a second later, Cragen walked in carrying a file. He looked first at John, who still had his butt in Olivia's face, then at his other detectives rolling around on the floor. He shook his head and disappeared into his office, but not before shouting, "Get back to work!"

Fin stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. Elliot soon followed, but they still continued to laugh as Olivia frantically tried to scoot her chair back.

"Hey man, I got one question to ask you," Fin started, trying to hold his laughter back, "Why'd you pick 'Ms.New Booty' to dance to?"

SVU Squadroom

2:00 p.m.

Two o'clock.

John's steady gaze rested upon the clock ticking on the wall. It was two o'clock, and all he had managed to do was send the squad into fits of laughter.

Old people need some, too, dammit!

He stared, looking at the enormous stack of papers that almost covered the surface of his desk. He decided he would do paperwork tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that. Hell, he just might not do it.

John proceeded to twiddle his thumbs for the next half hour. Then, he balled up about fifty pieces of paper and tried to aim for Fin's head. It hit several times, but Fin could not figure out where it was coming from. He even blamed Elliot, who was innocently working behind him.

When he got bored with that, he decided to plan for his next target. Smiling to himself, he pulled out a notepad and began jotting down several items.

But he wasn't done with his first. Not yet…

SVU Squadroom

2:37 p.m.

"I swear, the next time one of those paper balls hits my head, I will personally shove my shoe all the way up your ass." Fin turned around in his chair and gave the man behind him a death stare.

"It's not me, I swear," Elliot said, putting his hands above his head. Fin grumbled and returned to his work.

Actually, it was Olivia, who had picked up on where John had left off. She began to giggle and Elliot turned around.

"What's so funny?" he asked, looking at her. "Nothing, nothing," she hastily said, and he faced the other way. She launched another paper ball at the back of Fin's head.

Fin cursed loudly and snatched up some papers, walking out of the room.

Dr. Huang's Office

2:56 p.m.

"I can't quite explain it, I feel as if I'm in a constant state of elation," Munch explained to the man sitting in front of him.

Huang studied him closely. Okay, there was undeniably something wrong here. John Munch had just waltzed into his office and opened up to him faster than a girl that just got dumped opens up some Rocky Road ice cream. _Of his own accord._

Change of heart? No, that couldn't be it. Ah, he had it. Drugs. It had to be drugs.

"Okay, John… Have you been taking anything, anything particularly, um, _unusual_ lately?" Huang asked.

"Umm…" John searched his brain. A light bulb went off. "Yeah, I took some anti-abduction pills last week."

Huang raised an eyebrow. Anti-abduction pills were cheap sugar tablets sold to paranoid people that are afraid of aliens. Even if it _was_ something more than sugar, it shouldn't be in his system for more than a week.

"I'm leaving now," John announced, standing up. "The birds are calling for my daily enlightenment."

"…Hey John?"

"What?"

"Can I buy some of whatever you're on?"

John smirked and walked out of the room.


	3. Get A Clue

**It Must Be the Donuts**

**Chapter 2- Get A Clue**

John's Apartment

4:56 a.m.

The phone rang at an ungodly hour. John blearily rolled over and answered it. "John." It was his partner.

"Yeah?"

"We gotta go check out this crime scene. Some guy was shot ten times, and his you-know-what was cut off."

John groaned, and Fin, laughing, said, "Yeah, we all know you like getting up at five in the morning."

"You bet. It's one of my favorite pastimes, you know, getting an average of four hours of sleep."

"Whatever. Just march your skinny ass down to the precinct and we'll head out."

"Sure… Hey, is Olivia wearing that tight little tank she always has on in the mornings?"

"Man… that's just wrong."

Munch grinned. "Okay, see you then, Finny!"

"Finny? The last person that called me that did some serious time… in the hospital."

"Sure. Bye Finny." Munch hung up the phone, and optimistically threw open the wooden doors to his closet, with a smile. Blazer, dress shirt, ties, slacks… "I don't want to wear that crap… Why would anybody want to wear that?" John said aloud to himself. He shook his head and headed over to the wooden dresser, and pulled out some leather pants. "Now," he said, "We're in for business." He beamed once more and began dressing himself in odd articles of clothing.

SVU Squadroom

5:32 a.m.

He was stunning, a starlet! Or so he thought, as he confidently strutted through the doors of the 1-6.

John Munch was clothed in a casual white t-shirt and a red and white Hawaiian shirt over it. He also had long, tight, black leather pants that constricted his movement, and dark aviator sunglasses. The red and black flip-flops he had on his feet completed his look- a total idiot.

People parted before him like the Red Sea. Mouths dropped in awe. So did cups of coffee. "What the hell are you wearing?" Elliot asked, inquiring about his odd choice of clothing. Olivia stood beside him, looking just as perplexed.

John said nothing as he continued to swagger towards his desk, and once more ignored the mound of papers on it that grew larger by the hour. He plopped down in his seat, and arrogantly sipped the cup of coffee he had picked up on the way to the precinct. Then, he set the cup on the desk (he had to find room first) and placed his feet on top of the papers. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

No sooner than he had settled in, he was promptly removed from his relaxed state by Fin, who had grabbed him from under his arms and whisked him out of his seat. "What're you doing? We gotta get outta here! And what's that?" Fin said, looking at his attire.

John gasped in mock surprise. "Finny? Oh… you must not have gotten the memo. Today is Hawaiian shirt day," Munch said proudly, placing his hands on his hips and grinning profusely.

"Whatever, you freak. Let's just go before notices you," Fin said, and they began to walk back out of the precinct.

"Why can't Elliot and Olivia go?" John whined.

"Ass duty. Long story… don't ask." Fin said. They both glanced behind them at the duo, which had yet to finish their work, as they were now having a paper ball fight.

"Those two really go at it, huh?" Munch asked, turning back around.

"Yeah." Fin replied shortly, becoming bored of the conversation.

"Fin, how come _we're _not close like that?" John asked, throwing his arm around Fin.

"Get your damn hands 'offa me! The hell's matter with you?" Fin said brushing John's hand off his shoulder.

John smiled. He knew exactly how to get under his partner's skin.

Broadway Street

5:40 a.m.

"Well, this is excellent," Fin said sarcastically as the squad car they were in feebly sat in the middle of the street. For three minutes, Fin had haplessly tried to restart the engine, to no avail. The car had earlier sputtered out as they were making their way to the crime scene. Miraculously, there hadn't been any traffic, except one car behind them, in which the driver had decided to continuously honk his horn ineffectively.

"Shut up, will ya?" John yelled, sticking his head out of the window. The portly man honked the horn some more.

"Drive around, asshole!" John bellowed. The red Taurus stopped honking and drove around them.

Just then, as Fin proceeded to fumble with the car, it finally jumped back to life. "Sweet!" John exclaimed as they drove away from the street. Fin raised his eyebrows questionably at his youthful choice of words.

"What? I can't say 'sweet'?" John asked innocently. Fin just shook his head and continued to drive. There was something definitely weird about John lately. Something he couldn't0 quite put his finger on. Fin inwardly decided that somehow, he would get to the bottom of it…


End file.
